


Betrayal

by silvertrails



Series: Our Love [15]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-31
Updated: 2017-08-31
Packaged: 2018-12-22 06:15:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11961423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silvertrails/pseuds/silvertrails
Summary: Finrod watches the ships burning at Losgar.





	Betrayal

**Betrayal  
** By CC  
April, 2013 

This is an amateur effort and does not intend to infringe on the rights of J.R.R. Tolkien. No profit is made and no harm is intended. 

In CC-verse, Glorfindel is called Laurëfindil and he is Findis’ son, so he is also one of Finwë’s grandsons. I gave Ecthelion a Quenya name: Ehtelë. I also gave Curufinwë’s wife a name:Telperillë.

This is a birthday fic for Engarian, who wanted Finrod. Happy Birthday, dear friend! =)

Thank you very much to Dawn for checking the story!

* * *

I cannot believe what they have done. I knew that Uncle Fëanáro was desperate, even mad with grief after Grandfather’s death, but this is simply too much. Though it would not be fair to say that he was the only one mourning I tried to understand his loneliness with both his parents dead. Father understood it, and because of that he was able to forgive Uncle Fëanáro, while Uncle Nolofinwë only had words of condemnation. I realize that Uncle Fëanáro was angry because my father left and more so because the greatest host of the Noldor only followed him further because Nolofinwë and I continued the march. 

I knew it all, yet I never believed that he would simply leave us behind. 

I guess I was too understanding, and too forgiving. I guess that Turukáno was right when he told me so. I know better now, but still I cannot imagine why our cousins allowed their father to do this. Maitimo was always so kind and thoughtful, willing to teach me the basics of work at court when I started to train for it. I know that Uncle Fëanáro did not approve, but he had not approved of Findekáno being trained at court either, so it was all right with me. As for the others, Makalaurë was always a bit distant, while Tyelkormo made a show of being civil to me. Carnistir ignored me, and the twins were simply too young. 

Curufinwë was not only my cousin but also one of my companions, and that is why his attitude has hurt the most. It is true that we were never that close, but we spent time together with Turukáno as we grew. We played together, hid in Indis’ orchard, danced in the balls at Grandfather’s castle. Curufinwë and Turukáno were there when I finally managed to gather the courage to invite Amarië to dance. We were friends… 

I can see Turukáno now, standing with Elenwë and Itarillë, a familiar scowl on his face. I am suddenly so relieved that Amarië is not here. Neither is Telperillë, who chose to stay in Tirion though Telpërinquar came with his father. I wonder if Telpërinquar helped… No, I hope he did not, for he is still too young and that would be too much weight on his shoulders. I dare to look at Findekáno, who stands on the shore, eyes lost in some point only he can see, Arakáno at his side. Laurëfindil and Ehtelë are close, and so are Nerwendë and Írissë. My brothers are standing away from the shore, and while Angaráto’s face is full of rage, Aikanáro’s also dark with pain. 

Why did they betray us? We are their kin, and we love them regardless of the wrongs they have done, regardless of the wrongs we have done. We are no innocents, those of us who did not participate in the kinslaying but decided to continue the march nevertheless. We were expecting to cross the sea using those ships taken from the Teleri in a desperate dance of pain and blood. No one standing here is completely innocent, yet betrayal has set its ugly claws among us. Is this because of the Doom? Is this how it all starts? I shiver and pull my cloak more tightly around my body. I look up and meet Uncle Nolofinwë’s eyes. We both nod lightly and then look toward the north. None of us will return. We will continue; we want to follow our kin, no matter what. We will confront them, and we will take our share of the new lands. I sigh. Crossing the Helcaraxë is the only path left to us.


End file.
